


The Oracle & The Sword Thrower

by NalgeneWhore



Series: Elorcan One Shots [56]
Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:34:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22760299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NalgeneWhore/pseuds/NalgeneWhore
Summary: im also on tumblr @nalgenewhore! (i post there more regularly)
Relationships: Elide Lochan/Lorcan Salvaterre
Series: Elorcan One Shots [56]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1636468
Kudos: 73





	The Oracle & The Sword Thrower

He had hated the way they stared at him, could taste their desire and want heavy on his tongue.

He needed to be washed, the feeling of their lustful gazes on him worse than the oil coating his body. It was curious to him that he felt disgust when he was proposition by three mortals, his mind going to Marion, alone in the tent they shared while he was warming someone else’s bed. It had been simple enough to pawn off his shirt to that farmer’s wife after declining her advances.

Marion had come to watch him, which he found interesting. She had stayed at the edge of the crowd, and without that ridiculous headscarf hiding her dark hair, it fell in waves to her waist. The blood-red gowns were a perfect match to her creamy skin, the matching colour painted on her lips. Her face had gone back to its natural colour, fair tone, a constellation of freckles across her pert nose and a dusting of pink on her cheeks and he thought that she must’ve washed the thick layer of cosmetics and reapplied the lip-paint. He had seen Molly walk up beside her and they exchanged a few words, though Marion’s searching gaze never left him.

Something in him had shifted when he saw how she caught the heavy gazes of the people surrounding her and still remained oblivious, something that made him want to take her and claim her as his. He had thrown the three knives into the air, bowing without humility to the crowd as they gasped, the blades aimed for his exposed spine.

After he had rolled and caught them flawlessly, he had looked up to find her gone. The performance had finished quickly after that, a new sort of eagerness sparking in him. The crowd parted for him as he prowled across the trampled grasses to that ridiculous tent Marion had been in. He had had to bend to fit through the beaded curtain.

Marion was sitting behind the round table covered in ‘authentic’ cloths that draped to the floor. She looked at him coolly, “Molly will be begging you to stay, you realize.” She passed to him a cloth, one side covered in a smear of cosmetics. He gladly accepted it and wiped the oil from his skin.

Lorcan sat himself on the rickety folding chair opposite her at the round table. “Is that your professional prediction?”

Someone walked into the tent and they both shifted to glare at the intruder, the young man, barely even that, blanching and hastily exiting. He turned back to face her and found her eyes tracking over his bare torso, something like want shining in the dark onyx irises. “Did you sell your shirt, too?”

He let loose a savage grin, “Got ten coppers from a farmer’s wife for it.”

She scowled and tightly crossed her arms over her chest, her full breasts pushing up and catching his attention. Heat pooled low in his belly at the sight of it. “That’s disgusting.”

He just shrugged, “Money is money. I suppose you don’t need to worry about it, with all that gold you’ve got stashed.”

Marion held his stare, not caring to look pleasant or keep up her ruse as a sweet, simple peasant girl. “You’re in a rare good mood.”

“Having two women and one man offer a spot in their beds tonight will do that to a person.”

“Then why are you here?” Her voice was sharp with an edge of possessiveness and jealousy.

Lorcan didn’t answer her right away and took his time to survey the oracle’s tent. His gaze fell on her hands, gripping and twisting the heavy black tablecloth while an echo of anger sparked in his chest. Quite simply, he didn’t want to be in anyone’s bed tonight. “Wouldn’t that ruin your ruse if I slipped off into the night with someone else? You’d be expected to throw me out on my ass—to be heartbroken and raging for the rest of your time here.”

She breathed in deeply in an attempt to control her emotions, “You might as well enjoy yourself. You’re going to be leaving soon anyway.”

He felt the need to remind her, “So are you.” Marion tapped her finger on the table, not answering his statement. “What is it?” He didn’t bother to be polite with her, was done with these _feelings_ running freely between them.

“Nothing.”

She said nothing more than that and stared at the table. He could see the cogs turning in that cunning mind of hers.

“Marion.” She whipped her head up like she had forgotten he was still there. Her eyes were unreadable in the dimness of the tent. “You had plenty of young men unable to stop staring at you tonight. Why not have some fun with them?” He internalized his disgusted recoil at the words he spoke, realizing he would hate it if she did so choose a young man to lay with her this evening.

“Why?” she snapped. A look of panic crossed over her face before it was covered by icy boredom.

Lorcan stilled at the bite behind her words, choosing his words carefully, “When you were in Morath, did someone—”

“No.” She swallowed, like she was pushing away a memory that made her ill. “No—it didn’t get that far.” So, something had happened, it seemed. “I’ve never been with a man. Never had the chance or the interest.”

He cocked his head to the side, silky hair falling over his face. “Do you prefer women?”

She regarded him with a flat look, “No—I don’t think so. I don’t know what I prefer. Again,” she looked at him again like she couldn’t believe they were having this discussion. “I’ve never… I’ve never had the opportunity to feel … that.”

“Why?” It was hard for him to see why she had never known desire or lust. The past few weeks of steady food and sleep and safety had taken a gaunt, frail girl into a beautiful and sinfully curvy woman. If that had been what she looked like before her escape of sorts, he wondered why no one had ever known her in that way.

His eyes caught again on her mouth; plush lips painted like a fresh piece of fruit. In the torch light, she had been beautiful and alluring but in the darkness of the oracle tent, she was exquisite and utterly, _utterly_ forbidden.

“My name isn’t Marion,” she told him, wringing her hands in worry. “That was my mother’s name. My name is Elide Lochan and I am the rightful heir of Perranth.” He was frozen, unable to voice his swirling thoughts. A single thought appeared, _Elide suits her better than Marion_ , “My uncle is Vernon Lochan, Erawan’s right hand man.” 

She choked slightly, tears pricking her eyes, “I was kept as a slave for ten years after my parents were killed in the occupation of Terrasen.” She stood up and climbed onto her chair, sitting on the table and pulling back the voluminous skirts to show her ankle, which he cursed himself for forgetting to brace that day. “I was barely ten when I fell down a set of stairs and broke it. He- he didn’t trust any healers to look at in, feared that they would help me escape.” 

Elide swallowed and closed her eyes, tears caught in her dark lashes.

He stood, catching the way she flinched. “Are- are you scared of me, Elide?” he asked, his voice cold and cutting, hiding his hurt at her reaction. Elide looked up at him, anger flaring in her dark eyes at his question, at his voice. 

“You hunted me for _days_ in the Oakwald. I hid who I was for weeks,” she spat, her brows snapping together. “Why should I trust you?” He opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off, “Why should I, when you made it clear you would leave me the moment you had gotten what you needed? I am not stupid, I am not some fear-addled _girl_ ,” she snarled, fury washing over her fine-boned face, “that needs a brooding, half-breed warrior to save me.”

He flinched at the insult she threw at him, hating the way it cut deeper than it should have. Lorcan had been called half-breed for all his miserable and loathed existence, it should not have felt any different coming from a mortal with witches’ blood.

Rage, pure and strong, coursed through his veins at her playing into his expectations, at her deceit but something checked his fury, something in her words that told him that the only way she would return to whatever she had been before was in a coffin. He realized that he would help her be free, he would do whatever she needed to stay in liberation. “Stay here. I’ll be back.” He left that tent without another word, left her seated on that table, staring after his retreating form.

Lorcan could not tell why he felt the urge to root through his bag and fish out the tin of salve he had bought in one of the little towns they had traveled through. The scent of mint and lavender clung to the cap as he stalked back to her, ignoring the stares and gaping mouths, his mind on the oracle sitting alone in that tent.

He shouldered the curtains open again, looking around the tent when he didn’t see her perched on the table. He found her in the back, surrounded by cushions and gauzy drapes, her skirts pooled around her as she sprawled over the area, her eyes on the candles and incense above her. Her head was tilted back, her hair cascading over the pillows she reclined on. She didn’t look at him as he prowled across the tent and parted the gossamer curtains. He sat next to her, stretching his legs out as he leaned back on a cushion. “You came back,” she murmured, sliding her dark eyes to his, letting him read the apprehension and lingering betrayal. 

“I told you I would,” he replied, meeting her gaze. “Did you not believe me?” 

Elide shrugged and turned her eyes back to the sweet smoke that curled around the ceiling of the tent. He lifted her ankle and placed it in his lap, unscrewing the top of the container. She looked at him in surprise, “What are you doing?” 

“I forgot to brace it today,” he offered and turned his eyes to hers, reading her face to know that he could continue. Her foot was tiny in his hands as he scooped out some of the foggy salve and rubbed it into her ankle, his fingers sure and steady as he massaged the ache away. He tried to keep his anger at bay, knew that this wasn’t his fight but he couldn’t help himself. “I could kill him. You uncle. If you wished it.”

She had sat up when he began, tense as she watched with wide eyes but when his thumb met the spot where bone ground against, she relaxed against the pillows, a soft groan tumbling from her lips as her dark eyes fluttered shut. “Would it hurt?” she asked, her eyes slitting open to look at him.

Lorcan shrugged, “I can make it so.”

“Good.” 

Her eyes shut while he continued his work, working out any kinks until he felt bliss resonate in his chest. His blood heated at him being the one to bring her this pleasure, at him being the one to draw those sounds from her throat. The cool minty scent of the salve filled the air around them and washed over him, soothing away the tension in his shoulders and back until he was just as relaxed as her. 

Slowly, all the pain was smoothed away by his hands and she sat up, her eyes heavy on his. She kneeled, his hands moving to her waist. There was not a word exchanged between the two of them as she straddled him, still on her knees on either side of him. He wasn’t sure his heart was beating or if he was breathing as she brushed her lips against his. 

Just as soon as she kissed him, it was over, her chest rising and falling in a ragged pattern. Her eyes flicked down to his lips and they moved simultaneously to close the distance between them. 

Lorcan kissed her with such gentleness he almost surprised himself. His hands stroked over her sides, equally patient as she arched into him and threaded her fingers through his hair. Her tongue traced over the seam of his lips and he opened for her, his breath hitching at the first touch of her tongue against his. 

Their lips moved slowly against the other’s like they were drinking in the feeling of their embrace. He was perfectly content to do this all night, if that’s what she wished for. He would not deny her a thing. 

Her teeth snagged on his bottom lip as she panted, needing him to give her more than these soft touches and patient kisses. She rolled her hips into his and he felt the demand behind the movement, felt her shake in want. Her hands slid down from his hair to his chest, resting over the skin above his thundering heart. Elide pulled back from him, her plump lips swollen and the paint mussed. Lorcan moved his hands down to cup her backside and pull her against him, guiding her as she ground down against him. 

Quicker than she could react, he stood and lifted her with him, swallowing her gasp at the change in movement. He turned and set her down, kneeling over her. Elide let her legs fall open and he settled between them, their lips finding each other. He trailed his hands up her ribs and over her breasts, a soft moan falling from her lips so he did it again and again until she was writhing beneath him and she pressed her hand into his chest, pressing until he leaned off her and she stood, looking down at him with hooded eyes as she turned and he brushed her hair over her shoulder before deftly undoing the ribbon stays of her dress.

He shifted his weight onto his heels as she slowly spun to face him, her skirts flowing out gently, her hands holding the fabric to her chest. She looked like a vision above him, the desire in his eyes, the soft blush on her cheeks, her hair swept over one shoulder. Elide let her hands down, the fabric sliding off her like blood from a wound. She stepped out of it and then she was completely bare above him, looking like a goddess he would spend the rest of his days worshipping on this miserable earth. 

Lorcan swallowed past his tight throat as he threw her garment to the side. Elide’s ragged breathing matched his own and her chest rose and fell with a stutter. When he reached out with his hands to her, she tutted her tongue and he paused. “I do not wish to be touched by a male who does not mean it. I will not be touched by someone who does not want me.” Her eyes locked on his to determine the validity of his touch. _Do you?_ Were the words she didn’t voice but the ones he answered. 

He nodded, breathed out, “Yes. More than anything.” He spoke only truth and she let a small smile twist her lips as she kissed him and let him lay her down on the plush carpets and cushions. His lips parted from her as he began to move down her body, his lips hot against her jaw and her throat. He gently sucked marks over her chest, his ears twitching as he caught her hitched breath and muffled moans. 

Lorcan’s hands travelled up her ribcage to cup her breasts, so full and heavy they nearly spilled from his palms. She gasped when his calluses scraped over her smooth, unmarred skin. She pressed her legs together, needing something to ease the pressure between them. “I, I need-” She cut herself off with a needy whine, her body arching into the feeling of his hands. 

“What do you need? Tell me, tell me and I’ll give it to you,” he promised before he took her breast in his mouth, the globe heavy on his tongue as he grazed his wickedly sharp teeth over her peaked nipple. “Elide-” 

Elide took the hand that had been working her other breast and dragged it down her front, over her taut stomach and left it at the apex of her thighs, breathing in deeply before guiding them deeper into her dripping sex. “Here, touch me here,” she begged, her hips bucking as he brushed his fingers down her folds, not touching her enough. He was teasing her, she realized and just as she opened her mouth to say something else, he pushed two of his fingers into her, his thumb finding and circling around her clit. 

Lorcan pumped his fingers in and out of her slowly, adding a third, letting her release build lazily until all she knew in the moment was bliss. Her arousal permeated the air around them and if he could, he would bottle it and drink till drunk every night. She tightened once around his digits but before she could fall into that abyss of pure pleasure, he slid down her body until he was settled between her thighs, her legs hooked over his shoulders. Her spine arched off the carpets beneath her as he feasted on her, licking broad stripes up her slit, drawing sweet tastes of her liquid lust with each pass of his tongue.

Elide’s legs trembled on either side of his head and he gently coaxed her to wrap her velvety thighs around his head to keep him where she wanted and thread her hands through his hair. Lorcan wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked, skimming his teeth over it as she came, her hands pulling on the inky strands. Her hips rolled against his face, his mouth still pleasuring her through her climax. He looked up at her face to find her eyes closed, her bottom lip snagged between her teeth, her head thrown back. 

He slipped her legs from his shoulders and rose over her, making to settle over her when her hands slid down his front and he dipped his head to watch their path as she undid his worn belt buckle, popping the buttons of his pants one by one. He kissed her deeply just as she undid the last button, sliding his tongue into her mouth to tangle with hers, parting from her for an unbearably long moment to toss his clothes to the side. Lorcan paused when Elide pressed a hand into his chest, her lips parting as she looked her fill. 

A fresh wave of her desire flooded his senses and he remembered himself enough to look into her eyes, a question in his as he remained frozen above her. She nodded and twined her hands around his neck, claiming his lips in a bruising embrace. He took his hard cock in his hand and guided himself to her entrance, running the head of his throbbing length up and down her slit, coating it in her juices until he could slide effortlessly into her, having the mind to be gentle with her. 

Elide felt so unimaginably filled, his cock thick and fat inside her. Nothing felt better than this.

Her face scrunched in pain for a second, a mewl of hurt dying in her throat as he bottomed out and she moaned, low and sweet, into his mouth, their tongues stroking against each other’s. The feeling of her tight walls surrounding him had him wanting to fuck her hard, so hard that she wouldn’t walk straight and every well-earned ache would remind her of him. “Are you alright?” he ground out, her legs hitching over his hips. 

“Gods, yes,” she breathed, a soft exhale leaving her lips as he moved in her. He nearly came right then and there, pulling out of her an exercise in self control, the grip she had around his cock pure agony as he sheathed himself back in her. 

Lorcan moved slowly until she bit his bottom lip, her breasts pressed against his chest. At the command behind her bite, he slammed his hips into hers. Elide broke from him with a gasp, her head tilted back and he slid his hand down to her knee, lifting and resting it over his shoulder. The noises she made as he hit deeper and harder with every thrust were those of a depraved heathen. Lorcan dropped his forehead to her shoulder, her pillowy breasts bouncing in time with his pounding movements. He took her pebbled nipple into his mouth again, licking and sucking the stiff peak until she clenched around him and cried out his name, her walls tightening around him uncontrollably. 

He removed his mouth from her breast, taking in her face, as debauche and undone as the faeries in the forests surrounding Doranelle. Her teeth were sunk into her bottom lip, plush and plump like a fresh peach, her eyes half-closed in warm contentment. 

Lorcan kept moving in and out of her, sliding his tender grip on her mangled ankle to the thigh slung over his shoulder, holding tightly, enough so that there would be bruises on her skin. Not that either of them would mind, they belonged to each other now. He was hers now and forevermore and she knew damn-well that she was his. He would only come this undone for her and she in turn would allow no one else to bring her this pleasure. His other hand rested by her hip, his thumb flicking harshly over her swollen clit as he drew another orgasm from her hoarse throat. 

This time, when she fell into Elysium, he went with her, shooting thick ropes of his come into her heat. His release spilled out around his length, dripping down her thighs. Eventually, they calmed and their bodies stopped rocking together. Their chests heaved with the need for oxygen, greedily gulping air as they pressed their foreheads together, skin gleaming with sweat. 

Elide whined when he slid from her, feeling exceptionally empty without him inside her. A low chuckle escaped Lorcan as he flopped down next to her, his chest still heaving, his expression one of pure bliss. Before he forgot and gave into the sweet stickiness of slumber, he rolled onto his side and kissed her softly before standing and walking to the little table hidden in the back of the tent. She propped herself up on her elbows, watching him. “What are you looking for?” 

He didn’t answer her and she huffed, falling back onto the pillows and spacing out. She felt something cool on her inner thigh and jolted, looking down to see him wiping away his come from her skin with a damp cloth. Lorcan tossed her his shirt and she leaned up to kiss him before she tugged it over her body. Once she was clean again, he chucked it to the side, not caring where it landed as he moved next to her, tugging her into his side. 

Elide went willingly, went freely as she tangled her legs with his and rested her head on his shoulder, her fingertips tracing over the scars marking his torso. He purred, a deep and rolling sound coming from his chest under her hands. His dragged over her spine, his eyes looking over her, the way the candlelight caught on the lines of her legs something he would be fascinated by forever. “We should probably go to our tent,” Lorcan mused, shifting to lift himself over her on an elbow. He trailed his fingers down the side of her face, the sleepiness of his eyes telling her he didn’t plan on moving out of this space they lay in.

“We should,” she hummed back, not budging an inch and so they stayed, holding each other like it would kill them to let go, all night long in that ridiculous oracle’s tent wearing nothing but their skin. Elide’s breathing slowed until he knew she was asleep, her hands curling into fists on his chest. Eventually, she shifted away and he moved to curve around her, his arms banded around her waist. 

He wasn’t sure what it was as he nestled his face into her neck, breathing in her intoxicating scent of elderberries and cinnamon, wasn’t sure if it was love or lust that had him hoping that she would wish for him to hold her to his body every night, but for tonight, he would allow himself to pretend it wasn’t love because not even Elide Lochan could save him now, no matter how much his ancient and wicked heart wished it so.

**Author's Note:**

> im also on tumblr @nalgenewhore! (i post there more regularly)


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